


Waking Moments

by writworm42



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble, Introspection, Loss of Faith, M/M, Morning, One Shot, bed, flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:25:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Kikuro; clipped, weather, "glass".</p><p>On a lonely, rainy morning, Kise's glad to have Kuroko by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Moments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hlae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlae/gifts).



Kise rolled over, groaning as he struggled to force heavy eyelids apart. Beside him, Kuroko lay sleeping, small body curled into a bunched-up ball of blankets, limbs, and extra quilts. Kise smiled lazily, knowing how easy it would be to wake Kuroko, how vulnerable the boy was even in his most defensive position. Just one touch, one icy finger traced along his chin, pressed against his collar-bone…

Closing his eyes again, Kise let the idea pass. He could hear the rain outside pattering against the bedroom window, wind whistling against the trees. The weather had been going for days, non-stop rain pouring down, fighting howling gusts of wind for attention, for fear.

 _Forty days and forty nights, it continued_.

Kise frowned. He hadn’t been to church in seven years, hadn’t hurt the clipped, angry phrasings of Judas or Yaweh or whatever he was called these days since he was a child. Kise was grown now; he didn’t _need_ the lilting, drawn-out exaggerations of a sermon, didn’t need the rigid prophecies of gold-edged books that left slits on the fingers of clumsy readers. Didn’t need the faces of nameless parishioners as they parted the sea of judgment, pity, and condemnation to let him and his boyfriend pass.

Kise’s eyes were open now, his gaze wandering lost around the room. His closet ( _their_ closet, carelessly left open round the clock), his nightstand ( _their_ nightstand, with an empty glass cementing itself to the surface, leaving rings on the laminate), a single, broken lamp. What was he looking for? What was he hoping to find?

_There._

A weight seemed to lift off of Kise’s chest as his eyes flitted to the side, rested on Kuroko’s still-sleeping form. There was his angel, his shepherd, his lamp in the darkness. Turning over again, Kise cupped his hands together, letting out short, hot breaths against the cool surface of his fingers. Carefully, slowly, gingerly, he extended his arms and scooted closer, wrapping himself around his boyfriend, pressing his face against the boy’s back.

“Kise-kun?” Kuroko’s voice, even when clouded with sleep, was clear and cautious, enough to make Kise pull in more, hold him closer.

“Good morning, Kurokocchi.”

“Yeah… Good morning.” Kise didn’t need to see Kuroko’s face to picture his smile, didn’t need to listen for the rustling of sheets and untangling of extremities to know that Kuroko was trying to turn around, trying to face him. So he closed his eyes, let his senses fall away.

“Say, Kurokocchi… It’s so cold outside, I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

He couldn’t see, but he knew that smirk. He couldn’t feel, but he knew the touch of Kuroko’s hands on his face, lingering and pressing, trying to search what was wrong. But there was nothing to find; Kise only wanted to sleep.

And as he did, he whispered, “I love you.”

He couldn’t hear, but he knew the soft whisper of Kuroko’s return, his half-smirking, half-sighing sentimentality, and smiled through the veneer of sleep.

_Good night, my darling._


End file.
